


300 Fox Way Tea Shop

by kavinsskys



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bluesey - Freeform, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Smoking, but now it's pretty much just, just a forewarning, pynch - Freeform, there will be some underage drug use, this was meant to be mostly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7989037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavinsskys/pseuds/kavinsskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ronan” says Adam, at the same time Ronan says,<br/>“You should leave,” Adam blinks, hard, feels tears at the back of his eyes, stares into the light above them to keep them back.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry for acting like I knew you,” says Blue.<br/>“I’m sorry for acting like I didn’t,” says Gansey. Blue smiles, tiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (a stone on the path means) the tea's not ready

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa this has been so long coming i'm sorry. it's blue's tea shop, some little elements from canon thrown in here and there, but it's au. lots of bluesey and lots of pynch. chapter titles from various richard siken poems.

Blue doesn’t know why she writes her number on President Cellphone’s cup. She really doesn’t. He’s obviously richer than her entire family put together, he’s wearing a god-awful yellow polo shirt, and he tries to make conversation with her using a really odd question. Blue can’t tell if it’s a pick up line or not.

 

“What do you know about Welsh kings?” he asks. Blue is still marking his order on the paper cup.

“Not much at all,” she says, and turns away to make his drink. She’d feel bad for being rude, but he’s clearly an Aglionby boy, and he’ll get over it. Plus, it’s a busy day. So she writes her phone number right under his odd name (“Gansey.” “Is that all there is?” “That’s all there is.”), with her own name underneath to make up for it. He collects his drink and looks at her in a strange sort of way before he leaves.

* * *

 

The next time Gansey comes in he’s with three other boys, and all four of them are in Aglionby uniforms. Great. Blue finds the Raven Boys insufferable on the best of days. Lucky for her, they almost never come by 300 Fox Way Tea Shop, despite its proximity to the Aglionby campus. Blue guesses it might be because of its eclecticism. It’s her family’s tea shop, and her mother and sisters had been travelling psychics back in the day, so they’d tried to bring as much of that into their café as possible. Blue loves it. It’s home.

 

Blue’s on table service today, and she definitely doesn’t go out of her way to see whether or not Gansey’s little group take a table. They sit by the back corner, in the two sofas, and she takes their menus over to them. Gansey’s wearing another polo shirt, this one a light turquoise colour. Sitting beside him is a smudgy boy who looks bored to death, and opposite them are a tanned freckled boy with a black eye and bruising along his jaw, and a sharp-edged boy with a buzzcut. Blue can see the edges of a tattoo curling around the sharp boy’s neck. She tries not to stare at the tanned boy’s bruises. She places all four menus in front of Gansey and doesn’t ask him why he never called.

 

“I’ll be back to take your orders in a while,” she says instead. The tanned boy tries to hand his menu back to her, but the tattooed one stops him, says,

“Adam,” in a weird, stern voice. Blue tries not to be curious. As she leaves, she thinks she hears a very President Cellphone voice say,

“Aquamarine is a wonderful colour, and I won't be made to feel bad for wearing it,” and that definitely makes her a little curious about Gansey. How could he say that and be _serious_? Blue doesn’t find it cute. At all.

 

When Blue returns to the counter to get more menus for other tables, Maura’s fixing her with that knowing look of hers and Blue _hates_ it.

“So,” she says.

“ _So_ , what?” says Blue, as nonchalantly as possible. Which, it turns out, is not all that nonchalantly.

“You were making gooey eyes at that boy,” Maura nods in Gansey’s direction, “The one in the polo shirt,”

“His name is Gansey,” Blue says, before she can stop herself, and then, “And I was _not_ ,” but it’s not even enough to convince herself. She sounds like a petulant toddler. Taking the menus, she heads back out into the tea shop.

 

Blue doesn’t know why she finds Gansey’s group so interesting. It’s not _entirely_ because of Gansey, though, she knows that. They’re just odd, but somehow they put her at ease. Tattoo boy orders an inhuman amount of food, while the tanned one in the Coca-Cola shirt orders a small milkshake and nothing else. Gansey hands all their menus back to her once the four of them have ordered, and says,

“Thank you,” because he might be rich and spoilt but he’s not _rude_ , not intentionally.

“Thanks, Gansey,” says Blue, and realises her mistake when three pairs of eyes turn to stare at her. Gansey’s are fixed on the table in front of him, and Blue can see the pink edge of a flush creeping up his neck. His glasses slide down his noses. Blue says, “Oh, sorry,” though she doesn’t know what for and if it’ll even help anything. Then she scurries away to give their orders to Maura and Persephone.

* * *

 

“Gansey,” says Ronan, all smug and not even bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “You know her?”

“No,” says Gansey, but he’s still staring at the table.

“You sure?” Ronan huffs a laugh. Gansey doesn’t look up. “Because she seemed to know you,”

“Ronan,” says Gansey, a little stern, a little embarrassed. But Ronan’s not done.

“Got an admirer, Gansey? Bet she wants you to grind _fine_ -”

“Ronan,” it’s not Gansey who says it, this time. It’s Adam, and Ronan can feel the press of his fingers on his thigh through denim. He stops. Gansey sighs, turns back to Noah, continuing some conversation they must’ve been having earlier, he doesn’t know.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” says Ronan, getting up. Adam follows him.

 

“Ronan,” says Adam once they’re outside, tucked away in the small alley behind the tea shop. Ronan, leaning against the red brick wall, takes a long drag of his cigarette, runs a hand over his shaved head.

“Adam,” he says. He knows what Adam wants to ask him but he wants him to ask first anyway.

“What’s wrong?” And ok, maybe Ronan had misjudged what Adam was going to ask. He repeats, parrot-like,

“What’s _wrong_?” and takes another pull from his cigarette. Adam looks at him like he can see into his soul, so Ronan looks up at the sky instead.

“You’re never like that with Gansey,” says Adam, and when Ronan tries to protest he keeps going, “I mean, you are. But he asked you to stop, it’s different, Ronan, what’s wrong?” Adam speaks too quickly and sounds too worried but he’s got a point. Ronan still doesn’t look at him, though.

“There’s a lot,” he says, a little too quiet to be casual. He flicks the ash from the top of his cigarette.

“Oh, _Ronan_ ,” says Adam, and then they’re kissing, Adam’s weight pushing Ronan against the wall but it’s a gentle kiss, slow and soft and sweet. Adam mumbles something Ronan doesn’t hear but he ignores it, just keeps kissing Adam because honestly that’s something he could do forever. Adam’s hand is on Ronan’s thigh again, doing nothing but stroking up and down, but even that has Ronan breaking away to catch his breath. He takes another pull from the cigarette and drops it on the asphalt, stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe.

“Ronan, Ronan, c’mere,” says Adam, so Ronan leans in, parts his lips, and breathes smoke into Adam’s open mouth.

 

Adam doesn’t smoke, it doesn’t do anything for him, but. Like this, almost kissing, the nicotine adds a weird sort of haze, a pleasant dizzying feeling. Then, Ronan pulls back, reaches up to cup Adam’s face. His thumb brushes Adam’s bruise, right under his eye, and Adam freezes.

 

“Adam, you-”

“Don’t,” says Adam, “Don’t say it. Don’t ruin this,” He turns around, then, his back to Ronan, and Ronan knows he isn’t imagining the way Adam’s shoulders shake when he says, “Let’s go back inside,”

* * *

 Blue thinks something is weird when she delivers the food and tea to the table full of Raven Boys. But then again, Blue always thinks things are weird, especially Raven Boys, so she doesn’t comment on it. Gansey looks like he’s about to say something to her but he doesn’t, so Blue just says,

“You’re table 8, you can pay at the counter when you’re leaving,”

“Oh, _can_ _we_?” snipes Tattoo-boy. Blue puts his plate down harder than necessary and retreats to the relative safety of the counter.

 

“Ronan,” says Adam, though less harshly than earlier. Ronan seems to blush a little but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t apologise. He’s not the type. Gansey says,

“I’m going to go and talk to Blue,” Adam half-expects Ronan to make another snide comment, but he doesn’t. He just sits tracing the fresh ink on his knuckles. Gansey leaves the table. Noah’s disappeared too. It’s just the two of them, just Adam and Ronan.

 

“Ronan” says Adam, at the same time Ronan says,

“You should leave,” Adam blinks, hard, feels tears at the back of his eyes, stares into the light above them to keep them back. Ronan notices.

“Oh, I don’t mean- Fuck, I don’t mean that,” he runs a hand over his buzzed head, “Your dad’s, you should leave your dad’s place,”

“I can’t,” says Adam.

“You won’t,” replies Ronan. Adam turns his head, sharp, away from Ronan. Angry tears prick his eyes. “You think you deserve it, or you don’t think you deserve any better, or-”

“That’s not it!” Adam only realises he’s shouted when he feels the eyes of the entire tea shop on him. He flushes, lowers his voice, and says again, even though it’s a lie, “That’s not it.”

“Then come to Monmouth,” Ronan says, and it’s so quiet Adam almost thinks he’s imagining it. “It’s not Gansey asking you this time,”

* * *

 

Gansey arrives in Blue’s eye line just as someone in the tea shop says, very loudly,

“That’s not it!” She glances over his shoulder to find that the shout came from Gansey’s quiet, tanned friend. Gansey obviously recognises his voice, because he tenses at the sound.

“I’m sorry about Ronan,” he says to Blue. Blue doesn’t reply, just keeps drying the cup in her hands. “If it makes a difference, I have to live with him,” That gets a small smile. After a moment, Blue puts down her cup.

“I’m sorry for acting like I knew you,” she says.

“I’m sorry for acting like I didn’t,” says Gansey. Blue smiles, tiny.

“What can I get you?” she asks. Gansey looks down, and for a moment it almost looks like his cheeks are pink.

“Your number?” he tries. Blue scowls.

“You know I already gave it to you, right?” Gansey looks sheepish, then, twiddling his fingers in a very un-Gansey-like way. Not that Blue would know what is Gansey-like and what isn’t.

“I may have misplaced it?” he says.

“May have?”

“Have. I have misplaced it,” Blue writes her number on a cardboard sleeve printed with a tarot card design, and underneath that writes _please do not misplace_. She sticks out the tip of her tongue as she writes, and Gansey definitely doesn’t think it’s cute, and he doesn’t want to kiss her either.

“If you lose it this time it’s $3.50 for a replacement,” she points to the menu on the wall behind her, a long ornate mirror painted with cursive black letters. Gansey nods, faux-serious.

“I’ll call you tonight just in case.”


	2. no one wants to know what's in his head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The week after Ronan asks Adam to move in with him, something really bad happens. And Ronan’s there to see it.  
> Adam focuses on his paper hospital bracelet, twists it around his wrist, twists and twists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry im so bad at updating i just can't like.... do things. also why is this so pynch i don't even ship ronan/adam that much anymore? for ellie bc i love them for gettin me into this series,

The week after Ronan asks Adam to move in with him, something really bad happens. And Ronan’s there to see it. Ronan watches Adam’s dad open the door and wave a pay stub at him. Watches him hit Adam in the face. Watches Adam stumble, watches him fall, watches his head hit the railing, watches him crumple onto the dusty ground. Ronan tells himself to just go. He doesn’t. He gets out of the car, and walks up to Robert Parrish’s other side. He sees Adam’s confused look as Robert Parrish shouts,

“What do you want?”

“To do this,” snarls Ronan, and he slams his fist into Robert Parrish’s face. They fight, and Parrish head-butts him in the nose. Ronan hears Adam’s mother screaming at them to stop, but they don’t. They keep fighting, and fighting. Ronan just wants him to feel everything he’d made Adam feel, and more. They struggle until the police show up. Ronan is pushed into the back of a patrol car, and watches as Adam talks to the other cop. He hopes Adam will finally press charges.

 

* * *

 

Gansey comes to collect Adam from the hospital. Adam didn’t have insurance, he says, like it surprises him. He’d paid Adam’s medical bills. Adam focuses on his paper hospital bracelet, twists it around his wrist, twists and twists.

“I’m not coming to live with you,” he says.

“I didn’t say you should,” says Gansey.

“I want to talk to Ronan,” says Adam, and because Gansey sometimes isn’t so oblivious, he takes Adam straight to Monmouth.

 

* * *

 

At Monmouth, Adam goes to Ronan’s room and shuts the door behind him. Ronan is sitting on the bed, at the very edge, and he lacks his usual casual slouch. He doesn’t say anything, though, so Adam has to find his own words. He takes a breath.

“I’ll stay here, with you,” says Adam, “But I’m not pressing charges,”

“Adam-”

“No, listen to me. I’ll come and live at Monmouth. But I won’t be known as that poor kid who went to live with his boyfriend because he couldn’t handle a little discipline,”

“You know that’s not what that was,” says Ronan, and he looks angry. Adam doesn’t tell him. Says instead,

“That’s what my dad thinks it was. That’s what his friends will be told it was. That’s what everyone will hear of it as, and I-” his voice breaks, and his face is crumpling. Ronan reaches out and tugs Adam’s hand until he sits on the bed beside him. “I won’t be able to tell them any different,”

Ronan puts an arm around Adam, pulls him close, says,

“What will you tell them?”

“I don’t know,” Adam’s crying now, “I moved out to be closer to school. To work. Maybe- maybe I moved out because I love you,” And, _oh_. Adam hadn’t meant to say that, it just kind of slipped out. He rubs a hand over his eyes says, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to-”

“I love you too,” says Ronan. They’re silent for a moment, then, “I just think you would be safer if you pressed charges. I want you to be safe,”

“I know. I still don’t want to,” says Adam.

“Okay,” Ronan replies, and that’s that. They both know it’s not really the end of it, not by a long shot – Ronan’s still silently seething – but neither want to argue. So they both sit there, wrapped up in each other, until Gansey calls them to ask if they want to come to 300 Fox Way – and they go, because they both need a break

 

* * *

 

Blue notices Gansey the second he walks through the door. How could she not, with his stupid brightly coloured polo shirt and his stupid boat shoes and his stupidly cute face and – She stops herself there. That is not a workplace-appropriate train of thought. Gansey’s with the asshole, Ronan, she vaguely remembers, and the tanned one this time, there’s no sign of their smudgy blonde friend. They sit in the same spot as last time, and Blue brings their menus over. Gansey gives her a tiny secret smile and her heart stutters a little in her chest.

“Care to hear about today’s specials?” she asks, and when one of Gansey’s friends tilts his head towards her she tries not to stare at the fresh bruises and scrapes on his face. Ronan leans into him and whispers something. Blue catches the word ‘specials’ and realises he’s relaying what she’d said.

“Yes, please,” says Gansey, politely. She tells them about the fresh quiche, the daily sandwich variety and the new herbal tisane 300 Fox Way, and Gansey looks so pleased.

“I’ll have the quiche and the tea,” he says, and looks to the others.

“Two of those fancy sandwiches and a black coffee,” says Ronan. He nudges the boy beside him, says

“Adam,” very quietly. Adam looks up, says,

“Nothing for me, thanks,”

“He’ll have the same,” Ronan orders on his behalf. Blue glances between them, but takes Ronan’s word for it and goes to give their order to Maura.

 

* * *

 

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” says Adam, when the nice waitress – Blue? – leaves.

“There are a few things I wish you wouldn’t do either,” says Ronan, and Adam bristles at that, but lets it go. “Wanna come for a smoke?”

“Fuck, yes,” says Adam, because for them smoking means sloppy makeouts and Adam _misses_ that – the last time he kissed Ronan was only last week, before Adam had to be admitted to hospital, but it seems so much longer. “Gansey, do you mind?”

“No, go ahead,” says Gansey, though the expression on his face says he finds the whole situation in slight bad taste.

 

* * *

 

“Ronan,” says Adam, as if he’s about to ask something but then thinks better of it.

“Adam,” says Ronan, in between drags of his cigarette, as Adam presses open-mouthed kisses to his jaw, “What is it?” Adam mumbles something against his pulse point, “What?”

“I can’t get my things, from the trailer, I can’t, I can’t go back there, and –” Adam’s breathing hard, he’s panicking, but Ronan just cups his face in his hands, doesn’t ask why he’s thinking of this now, says,

“Adam. Look at me. You don’t have to,” but Adam knows what he’s trying to say, doesn’t want Ronan’s charity. It’s like Ronan knows what he’s thinking, because he says, “It’s not charity, Adam. Just let me do this for you,” and Adam just nods. Ronan doesn’t lie, and Adam trusts that when he says something isn’t charity that it really isn’t. He pushes his face back into the crook of Ronan’s neck and mumbles,

“Thank you.”

 

_No one wants to know what's inside his head. It should be enough. To make something beautiful should be enough. It isn't. It should be._


End file.
